


You Are Worth Any and All Trouble

by blackfin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Little bit of angst, M/M, but not a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 14:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8985361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackfin/pseuds/blackfin
Summary: No one deserves to be alone on Christmas, especially not drunk modern day cowboys.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Christmas Overwatch comic and a post by pornowatch on tumblr

Stomping his boots hard against the ragged welcome rug that had the ‘l’ and ‘me’ weathered away, Hanzo lifted one hand in acknowledgement when the bartender called out a good evening to him. Brushing the soft flurries of snow from his shoulders, he briefly considered removing his coat but quickly decided against it. There was only one thing that needed to be done and he was hoping that it wouldn’t take very long. Stepping further into the bar, it took him no time at all to spot the man he was there for. 

Turning towards the barkeep, he lifted the small plastic bag he held and asked, “Is it alright if I leave this on the counter? I won’t be long.”

“Yes sir, that’s absolutely fine.” The elderly man answered, “Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you. I’m just here to retrieve my friend here.” Hanzo responded, gesturing slightly to the man at the end of the opposite end of the bar. 

“Oh.” The bartender look visibly relieved. Resting his hands on the counter, he leaned over slightly to peer down at the man, “He’s been here for several hours. I was about to turn him loose but didn’t feel right to do that to him.” He murmured, almost to himself. Giving his head a shake, he turned to smile slightly up at Hanzo, “Glad to know he’s got a friend. He already paid for that bottle so he’s good to go. Would you like me to call a cab?”

“No need, thank you. I have a car waiting outside.” 

The bartender nodded, “Very good, sir.”

After setting his bag down, Hanzo strode over to where the man was slumped over the counter, a near empty bottle of he guessed was whiskey and a half full tumbler sitting abandoned by his head. He was softly snoring, a thin line of drool slipping from his slightly parted lips. Stopping by his side, Hanzo sighed sadly, his heart heavy at seeing McCree in such a position. Not that he didn’t understand how he had ended up here but still, that didn’t make it any less painful. Reaching up, he gently placed one hand on his back, leaned down and said in a firm voice, “Jesse, we’re going.”

Surprisingly, his voice seemed to immediately get through. McCree suddenly jerked up a bit too harshly, nearly falling to the floor due to the sudden movement but Hanzo swiftly caught him. Pushing him back onto the stool, Hanzo said in as soothing of a tone he could manage, “Easy, it’s alright.”

If he were being completely honest, he was well out of his comfort zone. He had made the decision to retrieve McCree after getting a mysterious text message alerting him to the fact that the cowboy was getting unhealthily smashed faced drunk in a small bar, as well as try his damnedest to offer him some kind of comfort but now that he was here, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. This was very far from his areas of expertise nor something he had much experience in. 

But still, when McCree turned to blearily look up him, his gaze obviously struggling to focus for a moment before it finally dawned on him just who was calling him and that small, nearly unnoticeable spark of genuine happiness gleamed wonderfully in those warm brown eyes, Hanzo quickly realized that he would find a way to work around his inexperience. Regardless of how awkward or floundering the situation became, he would do whatever he could. 

Taking hold of one of McCree’s arms, Hanzo quietly said, “Come. We’re going.”

It seemed to take a moment for McCree to register what he had said. When it finally dawned on him, he clumsily stood up without complaint and promptly nearly fell forward onto his face. Hanzo, once again, swiftly caught him. Quickly realizing that there was no way McCree was walking out of the bar on his own, Hanzo propped him up best he could against the bar, stepped over to his side, slipped one arm underneath Jesse’s arm and around his back before pulling him back up and taking most of his weight. It was going to be awkward but thankfully, the car wasn’t very far. 

After taking a moment to ensure he had a good grip on McCree, Hanzo gently but firmly led him forward. Thankfully, once they started going, it was relatively easy to get Jesse over to the entrance. Pausing for one moment more to retrieve his bag, he nodded to the bartender, wished him a Merry Christmas and was about to turn to go when a voice spoke up. 

“You actually showed up.” The accent he recognized as Spanish but the voice itself he didn’t know. 

Agitated that someone had stopped him, he turned best he could towards the source of the voice to find a young woman, dark skinned and decked from head to toe in purple. In her hand, she held a tumbler that she was studying intensively. Even now that he had seen who the speaker was, he still did not recognize her. Sighing in annoyance, he opened his mouth to speak when she beat him to the punch. 

“When I sent you his location, I thought for sure you would just turn the other way and walk away but it looks like I’ve been proven wrong.” The tone of her voice wasn’t exactly bored but she didn’t sound at all invested either. As she spoke, she didn’t look up from her tumbler. 

“You’re the one who sent me the text message?” Hanzo asked in confusion, one eyebrow lifting. 

“It was.” She replied after downing all the contents in her glass in one gulp. 

“Why? Are you a friend of Jesse’s?”

The woman snorted quietly before shrugging one shoulder. Turning around, she gestured to the bartender to fill her glass up. Setting the tumbler onto the counter, she folded her arms and still without looking over at them, said, “We aren’t friends. He most likely doesn’t know me. And who knows, mi amigo. Maybe I just wanted to see if you actually showed or perhaps, this devil heart felt a brief moment of sympathy which lead to an action that I may or may not regret when I am no longer drunk.”

Still thoroughly confused but not willing to waste anymore talking to someone who clearly was not going to give a straight answer, Hanzo sighed once more, shifted McCree into a better position and said, “I thank you for alerting me to his location. Merry Christmas.”

Making a mental note to change all of his numbers and to get a new phone the next time he was able, Hanzo led Jesse out of the bar. Maneuvering him carefully over to where he had parked the car, he propped him against it while he got the door open. After helping him get in, which ended up being easier than he had thought, Hanzo closed the door, quickly deposited his bag in the back seat before jogging over to the driver’s side and slipping into the car. He had just gotten the keys out of his pocket when Jesse suddenly spoke up, his voice soft, distant and slurring. 

“Why are you here, Hanzo?”

“I am taking you home.” He replied simply as he inserted the key into the ignition. 

McCree snorted bitterly, “Home? What home?”

“My home.” Hanzo said firmly. “It’s some distance from here but we should arrive before Christmas is over.”

Jesse fell quiet. Thinking that the conversation was over with, Hanzo turned on the car, put in reverse and was about to back out when he suddenly spoke up once again. 

“I ain’t good fer you, Hanzo. You should just leave me be.” There was a harsh bite of sadness in McCree’s voice. His head was bowed low, the rim of his cowboy hat covering everything but the lower half of his face. What little of his mouth that he could see was turned down into a deep, mournful frown. In his laps, his large, calloused hands were balled into loose fists. Everything about his body language screamed distance - that he was attempting to much as much of it between himself and Hanzo. 

Sighing softly, Hanzo put the car back into park and turned it off. Turning to Jesse, he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll be nothing but trouble fer you.” McCree said after several moments of tense silence. “If you stick to me, I’ll end up bring you nothing but never ending problems. There’s nothing I can give you ‘cept for that.” Somehow managing to lower his head even further, he mumbled, “Ain’t nothing good about me. You’d be better off not associating with me at all.”

Hanzo stared at him, dumbfounded, before a flare of annoyance shook him out of his reprieve. Leaning over the center console, he reached up to firmly take hold of Jesse’s jaw, lifted his head up with only a little resistance from McCree and leaned over even further so that he could press his lips hard against Jesse’s. The taste of whiskey was still on his lips. It wasn’t a pleasant taste by any imaginable means but the little shocked, sharp intake of air that McCree took and how he immediately responded to the kiss, his lips clumsily sliding over Hanzo’s made the whole thing worth it. 

Keeping the kiss short and chaste, Hanzo moved back after just a moment to focus his gaze intensely on McCree’s hazy one. Cupping the side of his face, he said flatly, “Remember who it is you are speaking with. I am no saint, Jesse McCree. Any trouble you could conceivably bring me is no more that I, myself, could cause and would be nowhere near enough to convince me that you are not worth the trouble. Cease this line of thinking; I’ll hear no more of it. Now, if you have no more complaints, we’re going home.”

Moving back, he turned the car one once again, pushed it into reverse, pulled out of the parking spot, threw it into drive and drove off. Their flight was in a few hours, which gave them enough time to go to a local hotel, get McCree cleaned / sobered up and maybe grab a touch of sleep. As he was about to instruct the GPS to find the nearest hotel, McCree suddenly spoke up once more but this time, his voice was lighter, smoother, closer to the one that Hanzo was used to hearing. 

“Thank you, Hanzo.”

“You’re welcome, Jesse.” He replied warmly. 

McCree sniffed hard, cleared his throat and asked, “What’s in the bag?”

“A cake. I planned on us sharing it once we got home.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as a small smile tugged at the corners of McCree’s lips. After taking his hat off, Jesse leaned his head back, closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. Reaching up to scratch one rugged cheek, he said, “Been a long time since I spent Christmas with someone.”

“And it will be a long time before you spend Christmas alone again, if you ever do.”

He hadn’t intended to say it aloud but the moment the words were out, he didn’t completely regret saying them, even though it was humiliating to have been so emotional. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he barked an order at the GPS to find a local hotel with high ratings. Focusing on the road, he tried his hardest to ignore just how extraordinarily happy McCree looked as it was immensely distracting. 

“Could you say that again when I’m not shitfaced drunk? I don’t want to forget those words, ever.” Jesse asked softly, his brown eyes gazing steadily over at Hanzo. 

“I’ll consider it.” Hanzo replied simply as the GPS directed him to make a sharp U-turn. 

McCree chuckled happily before lurching over to press a sloppy, wet kiss against his cheek. 

“Merry Christmas, Hanzo.” He whispered, his breath smelling strongly of whiskey. 

“Merry Christmas, McCree. Now, stop breathing on me. You stink to high heavens.”

That earned him another chuckle as Jesse flopped back into his seat. Glancing over him, Hanzo watched as he rested the side of his head against the window, closed his eyes and seemed to immediately fall back asleep. Shaking his head slightly, he made another mental note that he needed to introduce McCree to more sophisticated liquor, namely sake. 

There would be more than enough time for that, though.


End file.
